From the Depths of A Heart
by haixcore
Summary: Clara is an aspiring writer. Her life is thrown into chaos the day her home is attacked by Pirates. Taken hostage she fears all hope is lost. But will the tables turn when she finds herself falling for a certain pirate Captain? Rated M for later chapters!
1. Clara

**Disclaimer: I do not own POTC (I can not even fathom what that must be like) or any of the characters and/or locations described within this story. Save Clara**

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Title: From the Depths of A Heart

It was almost four o' clock in the afternoon and the sun was beating down over Port Royal with immense heat and intensity. Clara sat sprawled out in the sand, parchment and pen in one hand, fan in the other. In this heat, the fan served no purpose so she discarded it and began to fumble with the silver heart shaped locket she wore around her neck. She looked out over the ocean and closed her eyes to fully take in the cool wind hitting her face. The breeze tossed her chestnut brown hair playfully as she squinted her emerald eyes. Nothing exciting had happened today, normally there was some sort of oddity to keep her entertained. But not today, today had been unusually calm.

It was days like these that she adored. Sitting in the sun letting all time escape her. Clara was a writer and had recently taken on her first love story. She had sat at the beach all day searching for the right words to begin with. She looked at the parchment in frustration and finally scribbled "My name is Clara, I have never been in love" and then with that crumpeled it upand buried the paper in the sand.

The sun began to set, bringing darkness to the mountains surrounding Port Royal. Clara stood, brushed the sand from her dress, and lazily ran her fingers through her hair. It was quite a walk back to her mansion on the edges of the port and she was in no hurry to return to the harsh rules under which she lived her life. Her mother was dead and her father had recently married a widow. A woman so cruel and vile Clara couldnt stand to share any amount of space with her. Her mother had died when she was eight, now nineteen Clara vaguely recollected anything about her mother. According to her father though, she was a happy woman, a beautiful woman, and would have thought the world of her daughter.

Smiling at the thought of her mother Clara turned to begin home. As she turned her back to the sea a strange wind began to blow, icy cold. She crossed her frail arms for some sort of warmth. Dark clouds slowly crept over what was left of the sun, bringing an almost eerie darkness all around her. Confused she turned towards the ocean and what she saw almost stopped her heart. There was a fog laying over the water making it nearly impossible to see more than 100 yards out. Then through the fog she saw a ship, unlike any other ship she had ever seen gliding through the water towards Port Royal. A dark ship, with black sails.

She stood frozen, her head screaming "RUN!" but her feet unable to move. Small boats, dispersed from this "ghost ship" became visible and were coming towards the shore at an amazing speed. "Run Clara, RUN!" Her feet finally responded and she took off towards her home.

Before she reached the end of the sand, she heard the boats run up onto the beach. An assortment of yells and gunfire filled the air. Pirates! She ran to the first building she came to. A small shack where local fisherman kept their poles, nets, and an assortment of other things. She could see the entrance to Port Royal and the bridge that led to the fort through a small crack in the wooden wall. Then, as if in a sudden wave the pirates reached her. She watched in terror as they ran in mass numbers past her hiding spot and into Port Royal. None of them had even thought to look inside the small shack. At the first chance she got she decided she would run towards the fort where she knew safety was certain.

Her whole body was shaking. Her thoughts ran through her head at amazing speed. _Will I be able to make it to the fort? Is my family ok? What will I do if they find me? What if they kill everyone and only I am left?_ There was a tapping noise, soft at first becoming louder and louder. Looking around frantically she found her hand on a metal bait box, she was shaking so badly her rings were tapping the box. It was then she realized how afraid she was, her head started to spin and she felt extremely dizzy. The ground rushed upwards.

The last thing she saw before she passed out were two eyes, staring at her through the crack in the wall.

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**Hey everyone. This is my first FF (sorry Ch.1 is SO short) I promise I will add much much more in later chapters. For now reviews and suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Thanks everyone. haixcore**


	2. Aboard the Black Pearl

**Disclaimer: Again, I do not own POTC. I only own Clara.**

Chapter Title: Aboard the Black Pearl

**a/n: The words in italics are thoughts, hope you enjoy the new addition to Clara's adventure.**

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Clara awoke to the feeling of her body slowly rocking back and forth, back and forth. A putrid smell of mold and dampness filled the air. Back and forth, back and forth. _Where am I?_ She opened her eyes to be met with only darkness. Feeling with her fingertips, she concluded her surroundings to be a room no larger than a closet; floor, walls, and ceiling all made of wood. Frantically she tried to remember how she had ended up here, but no answer came.

Suddenly, as if struck by lightning she remembered being on the beach, the mysterious fog, and the ship with black sails. She remembered the pirates running past her into Port Royal while she hid in a fisherman's shack. Straining her memory, she searched for any indication of how she got here. Her face drained of all color when she finally remembered the last thing she saw, those eyes. The pair of dark brown eyes staring at her through the crack in the wall of the shack.

"Hello?!" she screamed, "Somebody help me!!" With her fists, she beat on the walls, which resulted in only dull thumps against the weathered wood. "HELP!" she yelled again, this time tears came to her eyes. Suddenly like clockwork, she heard the sound of keys jangling in the lock of the door. A rectangular shaped beam of light shot into the room as the door slowly opened. Half-relieved, half-terrified Clara sank into the floor. Her vision blurry due to the sudden emission of light into the room. She felt two pairs of hands pick her up by the shoulders and drag her forwards. The air became cleaner with a distinct smell of ocean. Her vision was still blurred but she knew she was outside and very close to the sea. The hands supporting her let go and she dropped to her knees. Heavy footsteps came closer and closer.

"This be her?" a rough voice questioned. "Aye, sir." an equally scratchy one responded. Strong hands cupped her face and turned it to where she was staring at the blurry outline of a man. The figure slowly came into focus and Clara was shocked by what she saw. She was kneeling on the deck a ship, the sails pitch black, the ship's crew gathered around her, and her head in the hands of the captain. Her heart rate increased and her eyes darted around for some means of escape. Noticing her change in composure the man said, "Calm down luv," and stroked her cheek with his thumb. His touch surprisingly gentle for a man of his stature.

"If ye don't know alr'dy me name's Jack Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow. I would like to be the first to welcome you aboard me ship, The Black Pearl." Terror panged through her heart, Captain Jack Sparrow and the dreaded Black Pearl? She had read about him many times and heard many stories but this man bore no similarity to the way people described him. He was tall, tan, extremely lean and muscular. He wore a bandana on his head which tied back a mane of jet black hair randomly twisted into braids here and there. He wore many layers of clothes, despite the temperature and displayed an assortment of rings on his calloused fingers. From his worn leather hat to his battle stained boots the one thing that caught Clara's attention most were his eyes. Eyes of evil, but of sympathy; eyes of intensity but eyes of pain. These eyes now gazed at her through charcoal outlines and a furrowed brow.

"Well, speak." he insisted. "My-my…" she gulped, "my name is Clara."

"Well Clara luv, I think you'll be seein' it in yer best interest to be stayin' here on me ship"  
"Where other option do I have"  
"Me point exactly."

With that he walked over to a pudgy man whom he called Gibbs, his first mate obviously and looked to be telling him something very important. Gibbs nodded and walked over to Clara. "Cap'n says ter get ya all clean now." He motioned for her to follow him as he went below the deck. She rose to her feet, muscles cramped and sore from being in that small room. They walked through a series of halls until stopping in front of a door. "In there, yer gunna find new clothes and sumtin' to wash yerself with"  
"Mr. Gibbs?" She stuttered, "How long exactly will I be on this ship"  
"Lass, yer gunna be 'ere till the capn' sees it fit to be letting ye go, which in yer case 'll prolly be a good stretch o' time"  
"What makes you say that"  
"Well, the capn'…I ain never seen the capn' look at a lass the way he looked at ye. And he's orderin me to take special care of ye"  
"Oh, thank you Gibbs"  
"When ye be done, come back up to the deck."

With that he walked away. Clara opened the door to the room to find pants, a shirt, and boots lying on a chair in the corner. _These are men's clothes_. She thought to herself. _But then again, I am on a pirate ship_. There was a wash basin, a cloth, and towel lying on a table opposite the chair. The water was warm as it went over her skin. When she was clean she put on the clothes. They were obviously large for her small frame and made her look extremely fragile.

As she walked out onto the deck the sun was beginning to set. An orange glow tinted the water and shot yellow and red streaks across the sky. She leaned against the rail, taking in the beauty of it all.

From behind the wheel Captain Jack looked down over his ship. He was surprised to see the girl leaning against the rails. He stood and admired her beauty from a distance. The clothes were obviously too big for her, making her look small and helpless. He laughed to himself at the way they hung on her body. He watched her chestnut hair shimmer against the setting sun. Her beauty was almost to much for him. What was about this girl that made him feel this way? As soon as he had looked at her face on the deck with the crew shivers had gone up and down his spine. For the first time in a long time his heart had fluttered.

Something about this girl captivated him and he was in no hurry to let her go.

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**Hey hope you like chapter two. Thanks to those who commented on Ch. 1, more reviews would be wonderful. Keep reading, I am going to try to post a new chapter everyday until I see fit to stop. : ) haixcore**


	3. Strange Emotions

**Disclaimer: You know the deal.**

Chapter Title: Strange Emotions

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Clara smiled as the warmth of the day left her face and faded with the sun into the sea. For a split second, she almost forgot where she was and what had happened to her. She looked over her shoulder to find the eyes of some of the crewmembers upon her. She quickly turned her head back towards the sea and pretended to be studying something on the side of the ship.

"Ye need not be worryin' they won' bite." Gibbs came towards her wiping his hands on a rag. "I know, they just frighten me a little." She paused. "Gibbs why are you and the crew treating me so well, aren't I a prisoner?" He frowned, "Ye would think so, this is odd. Capn' as never told us ter treat a prisoner wit' respect, but he insisted we show it ter ye." She looked at him questioningly and he shrugged his shoulders and turned to walk away. He stopped in mid step and turned back towards her. "I almos' forgot, Capn' wants to see ye, now." He motioned his head towards a large door with clever carvings around the molding. Clara could do nothing but nod. She was terrified, not of going into the Captains quarters, but of being alone with the Captain himself. Though his touch had been gentle, his eyes had shown how evil he really had the potential to be.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and walked to the door. She gave it a soft knock and listened. "Come in.," the same rough voice from the deck answered. She walked in to find Jack Sparrow sitting at his desk looking completely enveloped with a map. The room contained the desk, which sat in the middle of the floor and was covered by unnatural amounts of papers, maps, and rum bottles. There was a chest in the far corner, curiosity proofed with a large padlock. A door, which she assumed, led to his sleeping chambers and a large window, which stretched across the back of the ship, giving her a view of where they had been. She cautiously walked around the room, observing the odd trinkets and things scattered around. She found a little box on the corner of his desk and opened it to reveal a compass. The arrow immediately began spinning in dizzying circles. Suddenly a hand appeared and jerked the compass from her grasp.

"Didn't your mother ever tell ye not ter touch other people's things?" He held the compass behind his back and gave her an inquisitive look. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking." she stammered. "Jus don't let it 'appen again."

He pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit down. He sat behind his desk and propped his feet upon it. He had positioned her chair to where they were almost touching, facing one another. She felt uncomfortable being this close to him. His breath reeked of rum and his eyes watched her intently. He picked up a rum bottle and took a swig, she snorted in detest.

"Ye don' like rum luv?" he questioned.  
"I've never tried it, and besides I don't think it exceptional for a man to drink so vulgarly in the presence of a woman." In all honesty, she didn't care that he drank rum or that he drank period. She didn't mind his shaggy hair or his wrathful eyes, his strong hands or his gold capped grin. All of these things in fact intrigued her, she just wanted to be difficult for him.

He laughed at her comment, "Ye aint no woman, yer just a girl." She looked shocked, "I am very much as woman, and who are you to say anyways your just a--a--a pirate"  
"At your service luv, I had the thought ye were feisty. Ye want to be provin' yer a woman?" He put his hand on her knee, moving it up timidly. Same rough hands, same soft touch. She slapped his hand away, despite what she really wanted. Her body immediately felt cold, as if his hand touching her was the only warmth she had ever known. "You're a pirate. And I don't approve." With that she got up and walked out of the quarters.

As soon as she got onto the deck she immediately fell into the railing, breathless and confused. What is this feeling? She felt jittery, as if she were floating. Her heart felt warm. She didn't feel anything for this man, but then again she had never felt anything for any man. She was disgusted by him, the way he smelled, the way he lived his life.

She slumped down to the ground and leaned her head back, looking up at the sky. Her mind was saying no there is nothing there. But her heart was considering the possibility there might be. And to think a day ago she was on the beach, in Port Royal. How on earth had she ended up here on this ship, with this hauntingly seductive pirate captain and his crew of sea dogs?

Wait, all thoughts of Jack left her mind and her body went cold. How had she gotten here? Aboard the ship? In all the hustle and bustle and chaos of even being on the ship she had forgotten to ask how she got here. She looked around for Gibbs, the only member of the crew she had actually communicated with, but he was no where to be seen. She stood and squinted her eyes, even with the lanterns lit it was still difficult to see in the dark. There was no one to be found, until she heard the humming.

Confused, she glanced around for the origin of the low tone. There was no one on deck. She looked up as if the sky were speaking to her and noticed a leg, hanging over the mast. The crow's nest, of course! She ran to the base of the pole and yelled to the top. "Hello, Excuse me.?" No answer. Again, "Excuse me? You up there." No answer.

She decided to take things into her own hands and climb to the top. The only way up was rope, in a checkerboard pattern, used to access the mast and sails. The rope felt rough on her delicate, feminine hands but she began to climb anyways. As soon as she was a few feet off the ground she felt extremely uneasy. The wind was blowing lightly, swaying the rope as she climbed. A couple of times she almost lost her grip, but managed to hang on until she reached the top.

She was greeted by large, rumbling snores. He had not been humming, he had been sleeping. The sound of the snore had been muffled by the wind. She immediately felt embarrassed. I hope no one heard me shouting so ridiculously. The man was not very large, but wore a bandanna over his sleeping eyes. He had a pistol hanging from one belt loop, and a sword sheathed in the other. He wore a leather vest, covering a ragged brown shirt. By far, this man was not as attractive as the Captain.

She reached out cautiously, not wanting to frighten him. Tapping him on the shoulder he grunted slightly. She shook him a little, only to get the same response. "Hello?" She whispered. And as if a gun went off the man jerked the bandanna from his eyes and immediately went for his gun. Before she knew it, Clara was staring down the barrel of a loaded pistol. She gasped, almost losing her grip on the edge of the landing. The man looked shocked to see her there and immediately withdrew the gun.

"What the bloody 'ells the matter wit ye? Disturbin' a man while 'es sleepin." "I'm terribly sorry." she sounded sympathetic. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, removing all evidence of slumber. "Aye luv. Forgiven"  
"Its just, well as you can see you're the only one on deck." she spoke surprisingly confidently, being in the presence of a pirate. He looked over the edge, "Aye." "Well," she continued, "I was wondering if you could tell me how I got here"  
"Ye mean who bringed ye on board?" He looked confused. "Yes"  
"Me apologies luv, I 'avent the slightest clue as to who bringed ye 'ere. All I know is ye be here." Clara was disappointed yes, but she did not lose hope. Just because he doesn't know, doesn't mean there isn't someone else who does.  
"Ye e'er been on the sea before?" he questioned. "No, why"  
"Ter shows, ye aint got ye sea legs yet. Come 'ere an' stand, no sense in ye hangin' on like that"  
There was enough room in the crow's nest for both of them to fit comfortably without touching and her arms were strained from holding on to the edge. She climbed over the side and stood looking out over the ocean. The moonlight was reflecting across the water in a triangle, seeming to but the ship in a dreamy light. The gentle waves rippled against the ship and a calm came over Clara like she had never known.

After a few minutes she said, "It's beautiful up here"  
A familiar rough voice whispered in her ear, "I know luv"  
She whirled around to find Captain Jack Sparrow standing where the other man had been. "Where is the other man?" "He got th' message, came down so I could be up 'ere wit ye." She was unsure of what to say. "I'm not sure I am comfortable with this." His eyes had changed, no longer hard and wrathful but soft and peaceful. "Alrigh' then." He turned to climb back down the rope. "Wait!" Clara yelped before she had even thought about what she was saying. She wanted him to stay, she wanted to be around him, to feel the feeling she had when she was in his quarters. He turned, somewhat surprised, a grin pinching the edges of his lips. "Wait?" he questioned. She turned around back towards the sea, confused and taken aback by what she had just done.

Just then, a pair of hands rested on her shoulders, rubbing the tops of her arms lightly. She shivered at his touch. Hot breath came upon her ear making the hairs on the back of her neck stand. "Aye, the sea it is beautiful. I never seen nothing' come as close to it's beauty as you."

She slowly turned to face him. Looking him up and down from his hat to his boots. His hands remained on her shoulders, edging her closer and closer to him. As much as she wanted this, as much as she wanted to collapse in his arms, she couldn't. Was it him she yearned or what he represented. He represented freedom, something she had longed for her entire life. She was unsure of her feelings and could not do this to him, pirate or not.

Tears welled in her eyes, "I'm sorry I cant." She brushed his hands off her shoulders and climbed down the rope. Without stopping she went below deck and to the room which Gibbs had told her was where she was to sleep. She laid down on the bed and wrapped up in the blanket. Tears silently fell.

Alone in the crow's nest stood Captain Jack Sparrow, confused and alone. He clinched the side of the nest with his ring covered hands and looked up at the stars. What have I done?

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**Hi everyone. Sorry I know I said I was going to post but I was deathly ill. Hope you enjoyed and thank you to Sparrows Vixon. My only true commenter. More would be nice or I might just stop writing this piece. haixcore**


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